


Matchmaker

by AurayaPhoenix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, F/M, Humour, M/M, Post-Canon, Potter children like to torture their parents, Romance, especially Harry, post-epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 23:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AurayaPhoenix/pseuds/AurayaPhoenix
Summary: Harry and Ginny's marriage has come to a peaceful and amicable end.  His adult children however, believe that Harry needs a companion.  Unfortunately for Harry, their attempts at matchmaking are traumatising at best.Written in response to a challenge on the DA page on Facebook.





	Matchmaker

It was a soft, warm, spring morning at the Potter household, when Harry finally accepted that it was over.  Realistically, both he and Ginny had known this for a long time, but this was the first day that he had truly accepted that there was nothing more they could do.  All that was left was to decide who would keep the house, and how to tell the kids. 

Well, they were hardly kids any more.  Lily had graduated Hogwarts three years ago, already.  Gods, had it really been that long? She was working her way towards a Mastery in Charms now.  _Just like her namesake_ , Harry smiled, not for the first time.  Albus was doing something or other for the DoM.  Harry was, technically, highly ranked enough to ask Albus what he was working on, but he never had and never would.  He knew that Albus loved having a part of his life all to himself, and Harry would respect that.  James had taken after his mother and was playing Quiddich professionally.  He’d joined Puddlemere United as one of their reserve chasers and worked his way up in the rankings under the careful tutelage of Oliver Wood, who had been the team’s captain for many successful years now.  There were even rumours that James Potter would have a place on the England Squad next season.  Harry was so proud of all his children. 

Harry pulled himself from his thoughts and looked up again at his wife of almost thirty years.  She looked tired, but also relieved.  He could relate.  This was the right decision.  “So, what now?”

Ginny smiled at him, “Now, my love, we call the children.” 

 _My love_.  Such a simple term of endearment.  And despite their resolution to separate, it still held true.  The love they had shared was precious to both of them, but now it was a different sort of love.  Ginny was his best friend.  But she was not his soulmate.  He would never regret the years they had spent together; how could he when they had created three such wonderful human beings?  But both of them needed a change.  Harry had never been single, really.  Not since the end of the war.  And before that, he’d been too stressed all the time to really appreciate it. 

Harry nodded and got up from his chair, heading to the floo.  Throwing in the powder, he contacted all three Potters and asked them to come over to dinner that evening.  He was met with three agreements and that was that. 

Harry turned to Ginny.  “I want you to keep the house.”  Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but he just held up a hand, smiling, and went on to explain.  “I think it’s important that you do.  You spend more time at home than I do anyway, with my job, and I’d be happy to move somewhere nearer to the Ministry.  It’d save me some apparition energy.  And honestly, I know you love this house.  I do too, but you would never be as happy anywhere else, and I know that I would.” 

Ginny thought on this for a moment and then nodded.  “Alright, Potter, but I’m helping you find a place and you’re staying here until you do.”  She pointed a finger at him, and he grinned back and agreed.  Even if he was single for the rest of his life, he knew he could be content for as long as Ginny was still his best friend. 

…

At six o’clock that evening, the whole Potter family was gathered around the table. 

“So, what gives, Mum?” James piped up.  “Dad did the cooking, so I know we’re talking about something important.” Lily and Albus nodded along.

“Well, we have something to tell you.  Something big,” Ginny started.  She shared a look with Harry, who took her hand. 

“Guys, your mother and I have been talking.  This has been in the works for a long time, but we finally decided there was no use fighting it any more.  Mum and I are going to get a divorce.  I know this is probably upsetting for you, but – “

Harry stopped.  All three of his children were _grinning_ at him, and he was certain he just saw Albus pass Lily a galleon under the table.  He wasn’t Head Auror for nothing.  He narrowed his eyes.  “You knew.”

“Please, Dad.  You can’t keep living in these fantasies of yours.  We know everything!” Lily answered, a twinkle in her eye.  “Well, two of us do,” she added, shooting a shit-eating grin at Al. 

“Hey, I knew too!” he responded, indignantly.  “I just guessed the wrong day, that’s all,” he muttered. 

“You were betting on us?” Ginny asked, in a high-pitched tone Harry knew she would later deny using. “How could you possibly have known?  We were careful to never allow this to affect any of you.”

She was treated then to the Potter children special; the triple eye-roll. 

“We’ve known since Lily was in fifth year.  You weren’t arguing or anything, but it was pretty clear you weren’t, you know, _doing it_ any more either.”

Harry gave a sort of strangled yelp, “What!”

James and Lily dissolved into giggles at the look on their father’s face, while Albus was clearly trying not to do the same.  “I’ve also seen you around the Ministry, Dad.  You have a tendency to get very distracted when talking to anyone good looking.  Not an issue you’d have if you were regularly getting any.”

Harry could feel his face getting hotter and shot a betrayed look at Ginny, who had joined her children in laughing at his clear embarrassment. 

“Well, at least no one is crying, I suppose.  This conversation could have gone a lot worse.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” Lily consoled him.  “We’re all here, all happy, and we’ll gladly help set you up with any fit old people we think you might want to bone as soon as you’re ready.”

Harry got up and walked out. 

…

The next month passed fairly easily.  Harry had viewed a dozen places around the London area, and finally settled on a homely but modern apartment in a muggle area of Kensington. A little more upper-class than he had intended, but it’s not like he wanted for money, and the place was perfect. He had the goblins ward the place up the wazoo, and then added a few more wards himself, just to make sure.  No one ever said he wasn’t paranoid, but after fifteen assassination attempts over the course of his life (and that wasn’t even counting Voldemort) Harry felt that a little paranoia was justified. 

The day after Harry spent his first night in his new place, he decided to visit his children.  James would be training today, so Harry decided to save him for last.  He thought he might drop in on Lily first. 

Lily’s current project for her Charms Mastery was, unfortunately for Harry, to work with someone who already had a Mastery and come up with an improved version of an existing charm.  The unfortunate part was that she had chosen to work with Al’s best friend, Scorpius Malfoy.  This meant Harry’s first stop of the day was going to be Malfoy Manor.  Harry braced himself for the barrage of memories the place would undoubtedly dredge up.  It was worth it to visit his little girl at work. 

Harry apparated to the gates of the Manor and announced his presence, pleased to see his angel rushing out to greet him with a big hug and an invitation to come inside. 

Two hours later, Harry was sat on his couch with his face a frozen mask of shock and trauma.  Apparently, Lily had not been kidding about finding him “fit old people to bone”.  What the _fuck_ had possessed his daughter into thinking he might ever want to sleep with _Draco bloody Malfoy_?! It was downright disturbing! Even worse had been his impression that Draco wasn’t even all that opposed to it! Harry felt himself turning green at the thought.

Harry had accepted years ago that he was bisexual; in fact, it had been Ginny who had pointed his preferences out to him; and he had always been open about it with the kids, but this was going too far.  He might like men, but he drew the line at pointy faced bullies.  Alright, so Draco wasn’t as bad as that any more, Harry conceded, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable of being that way. 

Shuddering, Harry decided to treat himself to a decent lunch before visiting Al. 

…

Strolling through the familiar halls of the Ministry, Harry nodded to various people he knew as he made his way to Al’s office in the Department of Mysteries.  He greeted the security wizard at the entrance, a measure that he still felt amused by given his own experiences in infiltrating the department as a teenager, and registered his wand. 

Al’s office was down the corridor from the brain room where Ron had been injured all those years ago.  Harry knocked, and waited the customary fifteen seconds his son always insisted on at work, before letting himself in. 

His son had obviously just finished putting an obscuring spell on the contents of his desk when Harry entered.  Albus’ eyebrows rose but he greeted his dad with a smile when Harry came in and sat down. 

“Hey, Dad, what brings you down here to my little corner of weirdness?”

“A man can’t just come and see his son because he feels like it?”

Albus laughed.  “Of course, I just wasn’t expecting you.  Can I get you a cup of tea?”

“I’ll take something a bit stronger, if you’ve got it.”

“Oh?” Albus arched an eyebrow at him but went to a cupboard at the back of the room and brought out a bottle of firewhiskey. “That’s not like you; it’s barely past lunch time.  What’s up?”

It was Harry’s turn to laugh.  “Your sister is what’s up!  I went over to Malfoy Manor to see her this morning, and she tried to set me up with bloody Draco!  I’ve never been so scared for my sanity!”

Of all Harry’s children, Albus had always been the one who had most closely resembled him.  This had never been truer than right at this moment, as Al’s face took on an identical sheen of horror and disgust to the one Harry himself had worn when he first realised what Lily had been suggesting. 

“Oh, Merlin, Dad.  That’s not okay.  You absolutely cannot date my best friend’s dad!  Not a chance!”

“I know!  It was terrifying!  I was only there to say hello to Lil, and somehow we went from hugging at the gate to standing in the Malfoy Library; and then Lily started saying something about how I was single now, and how Draco and I had always had an energy between us, and Draco was nodding while Scorpius laughed into his brew.  I’ve never been so terrified in my life.  Not even when facing down a horde of dark wizards.  And then Lily and Scorpius left the room, and Draco touched my arm, and I ran out of there so fast I might as well have apparated.”

“Bloody hell.  I need to have words with my sister if that was her plan.”

“Plan?”

“Oh, well, not plan, just… idea.”

Harry stared at his son with suspicion.  There was something fishy going on. 

Albus coughed nervously and shifted in his seat.  “Erm, I’m just going to – well.  I have to just, um, get something.”  He stood and awkwardly trotted towards the door. 

Two minutes later, the door reopened, and a familiar head of dirty blonde hair drifted into the room.  “Luna!” Harry exclaimed.  “I haven’t seen you in forever! How are you?”

“I’m doing quite well Harry Potter, the blibbering humdingers have been visiting more often lately and it’s been pleasant to see their colours interacting with my aura,” Luna stated in her usual dream-like tone. 

Long used to Luna’s quirks, Harry just smiled at her and drew her into a hug.  “I’m glad you’re happy.  I’m just down here visiting Albus for a bit.  I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Ginny and I have separated recently, and I’ve just moved into a new place.”

“Yes, I had heard something about that.  I think one of the wrackspurts that hover around the love room might have mentioned it.  I suppose that explains why Albus Severus wanted me to come in and greet you.”

“He did?  Not that it isn’t great to see you, Luna, but did he give a reason for sending you?”

“Not out loud, but from the way his ears looked I believe he wants us to have sex.”

Harry choked on his firewhiskey.  “He what?  Oh Merlin, no, don’t tell me, I don’t want to hear it!”

Luna began prodding him rhythmically in the centre of his chest.  “Um, what are you doing, Luna?  This seems unusual, even for you.”

“Well you implied you were going to ignore me, so I decided I’m not going to stop poking you until you pay attention to me.”

Harry just sighed.  He knew she’d do it, too.  One time she had spent three days following Neville around with a feather charmed to tickle his left ear until he agreed to allow her to examine the nargles that were apparently infesting Greenhouse Four at Hogwarts.  At one point Neville had laughed so much that he’d tripped over a plant pot, taking Luna with him, and all Luna had done was get up, dust off her dress, and say “Sorry for kicking you in the face” to the venomous tentacula. 

“Alright Luna, so you think Albus wants us to have sex.”

She eyed him with a disturbing intensity and then lowered her poking finger.  “Yes, his wrackspurts were twitching strangely and he seemed unsettled.  I think he might believe you’re lonely and that I could help with that.  I suppose I could if you want me to, but I’m afraid it would only be for sex.  I just don’t think that in the long term you’d assist me much in my pursuit of the snorkacks.”

“No, you’re probably right.  I’m not much of a snorkack hunter.”

“You might be one day, you know.  But not for me.  My snorkack is elsewhere.”

“Right,” Harry got the impression they weren’t really discussing magical creatures any more.  “Well, as always thank you for the insight.  I’m going to go and give my son a good bollocking and then head home for a lie down in a darkened room.”

“No problem, Harry Potter.  You stay in touch now.”

Harry nodded as Luna danced back out of the room.  He took a deep breath.  He had a son to go and yell at. 

…

It was with a sense of trepidation that Harry approached the Puddlemere United Quiddich Stadium.  He had had a supremely weird day.  And in the life of Harry Potter, that was saying something.  So, it was of little surprise to Harry when he hadn’t been at the stadium for more than thirty seconds before he was roped into joining the Puddlemere team in the end routine of their training session. 

Now, Harry was by no means out of shape.  He had to be fit in order to do his job.  But he had forgotten the intensity of Oliver Wood’s enthusiasm for physical exercise and the depth of his passion for the noble game of quiddich.  As a result, he was trailing behind his son and the rest of the team as they ran laps of the pitch as a ‘cool down’ exercise. 

“Can we please stop running?  I think I’m dying,” he gasped through his exhaustion. 

James turned around and laughed at his dad’s predicament.  “Take a break, dad.  We’ll be done in another three laps and then you and I can go and get some dinner.”

Harry just nodded, unable to do much more, and made his way to the stands to collapse into the front row.  An indeterminable amount of time later, he was shaken awake by a rough slap on the shoulder and glared up into the face of Oliver Wood. 

“Bloody hell, Potter.  I know it’s been a while since you were on a quiddich pitch, but I thought the head auror in charge of our nation’s safety would look after himself better than this.”

“And I thought that the years might have mellowed out your slave-driver tendencies, but I guess we were both wrong, tyrant.”

Oliver barked out a laugh and pulled Harry up by his shoulders.  “Come on, let’s get you a shower and a fresh set of robes before you just pass out and end up spending the night in the bleachers.”

Harry dutifully followed Oliver into the home team’s changing rooms and gratefully threw himself under the spray of hot water. He was struggling to come to terms with the fact that Oliver Wood was several years older than him and not even winded.  Maybe he did need to up his game a little. 

Once he was showered and dressed, Harry sat just outside the changing room and waited for his son.  He wasn’t waiting very long, and then he and James went to dinner. 

There was a nice Italian restaurant that had only been open for a year or two on the outskirts of Hogsmeade and the pair made their way there.  They got through two courses of good food and pleasant conversation before James made his move. 

“So, Dad, I heard that there’s a get-together at Teddy and Victoire’s place next weekend.  Are you thinking of going?”

“I hadn’t really decided to be honest, kid.  I might do though.  Why?”

“Well it’s just that I heard Uncle Charlie is thinking of making an appearance.”

Harry got a chill of foreboding down his spine.  This had better not be going where he thought it was going. 

“Oh?  Well I’m sure it’ll be nice for him to catch up with everyone,” Harry said, carefully.

James just hummed in response and ate another mouthful of his tiramisu.  “You and Charlie always got along quite well, didn’t you?”

Harry placed his fork back down on the table with more force than he’d intended and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself.  He glanced back up at the too-innocent expression on his eldest’s face. 

“Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t what?” James responded in a tone that anyone who wasn’t as familiar with him as Harry would have been hard pressed to realise wasn’t pure evil. 

“I am not, I repeat, _not_ , going to sleep with my ex-wife’s brother.  I don’t care how many dragons he has.”

James’ eyebrows shot up into his hairline in an even worse impression of complete virtue.  “I don’t believe I suggested anything of the sort.  And anyway, it’s not the number of dragons he has, but how he uses them, I’ve heard,” James grinned and winked. 

Harry was beginning to think that his children were trying to kill him.  There was no other explanation for the number of near heart attacks they had provided him with on this day alone.  He looked his oldest child dead in the eye and said, without any inflection, “If I ever hear you mention Charlie’s metaphorical dragon again, I will personally arrange for you to be put on assignment with the Department of Games and Sports for the rest of your career, working directly under Ludo Bagman.”

James blanched in horror and nodded vigorously.  That was a fate worse than helping Uncle George test his new products.  And he had no doubt his dad would go through with it, either.  The rest of the meal passed in some tension, until James insisted on paying and then fled.  Harry smirked to himself.  That message would get to his other two offspring in no time, and hopefully end their little foray into matchmaking. 

…

Despite his children’s scheming, Harry did go along to Teddy’s house party the following weekend.  He didn’t plan on staying long, but it was polite to make an appearance at his godson’s event. 

After about half an hour of greetings and mingling, Harry found himself leaning against a wall by the buffet table and people watching.  Ginny was here too and seemed to be doing well.  Not that he didn’t already know, since they still saw each other a couple of times a week even since he’d moved out, but it was nice to see it anyway.  She seemed to be having a good conversation with Blaise Zabini, who even Harry had to admit was probably one of the most beautiful men in the British Wizarding World.  He smiled as he saw Ginny put her hand on his arm and laugh perfectly at something Zabini had said.  She caught Harry’s eye across the room, and he raised an eyebrow and smirked.  She flushed a little but grinned back and then refocused on her conversation.  He was glad she was happy. 

Harry was disturbed from his musings by the approach of a tall figure to his right.  “Alright, Potter.  Fancy getting out of here for a bit?  You look like you could use some exercise.”

Laughing, Harry nodded.  “You might be able to outrun me Wood, but I’m certain I can still fly circles around you if I have to.”

Oliver’s eyes flashed with the challenge.  “Prove it.”

Harry grinned and put his drink down.  “After you.”

The pair headed out the back door where Oliver grabbed Harry’s shoulder and apparated them straight to the centre of the Puddlemere pitch.  Summoning a pair of the latest model of Thunderbolts, he shoved one into Harry’s hands and then mounted his and shot off in the direction of the western goal posts.  Harry scrambled onto his broom and raced after him. 

Over an hour later, the pair were laughing and doing loops around the pitch.  “Damn, Potter.  I forgot how good you were.  You haven’t lost your edge at all, have you?  Why didn’t you ever play professionally?  Shit, I’d sign you now!”

Harry just chuckled back.  “Other priorities, Wood.  You know how it is.  So, do you admit I can fly circles around you, old man?”

Oliver’s expression took on an offended mien and then he got a calculating look in his eye.  “One more lap, to decide.”

“Alright, and what do I get if I win?”

Oliver drifted over to Harry’s side and leaned towards him.  “How about,” he breathed, “the loser buys breakfast.”

Harry’s breath hitched, and he unconsciously licked his lips.  “Sounds like a plan.” 

Taking a shuddering breath, he bolted out of Oliver’s reach, startling him.  “Better get a move on then, Wood!” he yelled back, over his shoulder. 

Eyes alight with the thrill of the moment, Oliver did. 


End file.
